We die into life in a new form
to resume playing
our flutes
striking new chords with our souls
embracing lovers
kicking out
the same loved ones
when
affections find alternatives.
But from
birth to death
what remains
constant
never goes
by cajolement
or abuse
which envelopes
a body and
mind like
a vengeful
lover, in pain.
We cry when
we are born
we suffer
without tears
in the rest
of our ventures
in other
moods and emotions
trying to
overcome pain
but it
lingers and
takes us to
our pyres.
I don't hate
you Pain.
But to love
you,
you must
relent
and lend me
moments of
respite to
celebrate life.
No comments:
Post a Comment